


C'mere

by Scrunchles



Series: Drabbles [6]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-13 01:40:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12972921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scrunchles/pseuds/Scrunchles
Summary: Junkrat thinks kissing looks like the weirdest fucking thing he's ever seen.  Roadhog just wants him to shut up and let him enjoy their down time at a cute French cafe.  The kiss is just to make him shut up.  It doesn't mean anything.  It doesn't.





	C'mere

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt:
> 
> “person A realizing that they were just kind of joking when they kissed B but then holy shit do they ever get sucked into it and when A finally pulls back they are absolutely stunned by B”
> 
> It also doubles as the first day of Roadhog week over on tumblr, which was months ago and also "favorite voice line."

“Eugh,” Junkrat says with a wrinkled nose.

Roadhog grunts in reply.  If he doesn’t, Junkrat will just keep making the same noise over and over again until he’s acknowledged or something else gets his attention.

“How can they just mash like it’s the best fuckin’ thing in the world, Hoggy?  Looks like a good way to get shivved.”

Roadhog follows Junkrat’s gaze to two teenagers crammed up against each other at the cafe they were stopped at, snogging like their lives depend on it.

He turns his attention back down to the petit menu in his hands and shrugs.  “Kissing’s nice,” he grunts in reply.

“Kissing’s nice,” Junkrat scoffs.

“Yeah,” Roadhog grunts.

“Can’t be that nice.  Look at ‘em.  Cops or bounties could come any second, and they’d still be noshing on each other’s faces!”  Junkrat says, still not looking away, still complaining.

“Regular people don’t worry about that,” Roadhog points out.  He sighs when he realizes that he has read the appetizer section three times and still hasn’t absorbed any of the offerings.

Junkrat scoffs and grumbles about what “regular people” can do with their worries.

Roadhog hopes that he’s finally done with his complaining as he selects the champignons à l’ail.  A waiter is with him with the raise of a hand, and his voice rumbles through the foreign pronunciation in a way that makes the waiter cringe.

Once he’s done ordering, he ignores the man and turns his attention back to the sweet little street the cafe sat on.  Flowers in boxes and cute designs on the mouldings and masonry made it relaxing and nostalgic in a weird way.

He’s interrupted by another phlegmy scoff from Junkrat.

“If it bothers you, then look away,” Roadhog growls, feeling tension building in his temples.  He reaches up to unbuckle his mask and drops it onto the table before rubbing his hands over his face and sighing.  

“Can’t.”

“Then go sit at another table,” Roadhog replies as he massages his aching temples.  Honestly, this was supposed to be a vacation and Junkrat was turning it into just another in a long line of headaches.

“I’ll still be able to see it.  They’re in the middle of fuckin’ everything.  Besides, then who would you talk to?”  Junkrat asks.  A bubble of laughter follows the question, and Junkrat looks like he’s made one of the best jokes of his life when Roadhog looks up at his delighted face.

Roadhog feels the edges of his lips betray him in a slight upturn before he can force a scowl, and the first thing out of his mouth is, “maybe you’ve just never had a proper kiss.”

Junkrat bared his teeth further, the way he did when Roadhog set him up for a pun, or a bomb went off with more oomph than he was expecting.

“Give us a proper kiss, then,” Junkrat said.  He’s holding back a shriek of laughter.  Roadhog knows him well enough to hear it in the heightened pitch of his voice, the way his words dip off as if in an invitation for a peal of mirth that’s just barely concealed.

Roadhog snorts and reaches across the table.  “C’mere,” he growls, emboldened by the way Junkrat’s face falls, and his hands come up to wrap around Roadhog’s thick wrist.

He begins to struggle, but goes still once Roadhog’s dragged him in and pressed his lips against Junkrat’s.  It’s not a “proper kiss,” at all, and Roadhog doesn’t intend for it to be, but it turns into… something… something closer to a proper kiss than anything he’d expected from Junkrat.

Junkrat’s hands relax from his wrist and his left hand touches Roadhog’s face, rasping calloused, half-gloved fingers against his stubble.

Unwilling to jerk back and face how goddamned awkward everything would be afterward, Roadhog moves his mouth against Junkrat’s, and they part easily to suck his thick bottom lip between Junkrat’s own thin ones.

He expects an inexperienced bite, but all Junkrat does is trace Roadhog’s lip with the tip of his tongue and scrape his teeth against it lightly.  Roadhog lets out a soft groan and drags Junkrat closer, pushing his tongue out to break through the gentle hold Junkrat has on his lip.   

Junkrat twists his tongue around Roadhog’s before he’s suddenly pulling back and giggling– high, reedy, and breathless.

“Christ, Hog, didn’t think you’d actually do it,” he says, grinning wide and tracing his tongue over his bottom lip absently.  “ ‘at was damn proper, though.”

“Told you it would be,” Roadhog points out.  His appetizer comes and Roadhog shoving the menu at Junkrat when he tries to filch a mushroom off his plate.  “Order your own,” Roadhog growls, kicking Junkat’s peg beneath the table win a clang.

“You’re a mean one, Hoggy.  Don’t let anyone tell you any different,” Junkrat tells him, straightening the menu and squinting at the print.  His tongue pokes out between his lips as he puzzles through the French words and Roadhog catches himself staring.

He wants to kiss Junkrat again.


End file.
